The Right Guy
by MsBrightside13
Summary: "So … since Stefan is – as always – the good guy... and I am – for once – seemingly not the bad guy… and I have you... what does that leave for me to be?" - - - Because the "Bad Guy" always gets the girl ... or so it seems. Basically Delena fluff


One-Shot _**T**__he __**R**__ight __**G**__uy_

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_a/n: Originally, this has been an idea I had for another fic I'm writing together with a friend in German. But since we're posting on another side, in another language … and I couldn't stop imagining this for Delena, I thought it wouldn't harm anyone to write it down and post it :) I hope you like it. :)_

_It's my first attempt in writing and posting in a language, that isn't my own :)_

_A huge thanks goes to __**auTumnlove77**__, my Beta. Thank you so much!_

_._

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He still had a hard time believing that this moment was indeed real, that it was truly happening. Even after all this time, after all the numerous experiences he had made in his life – and then in his _un_-life – it never ceased to amaze him how some things still found a way to surprise him. Leaving him in awe, stunned and utterly speechless. There was not much left in this world that could still evoke those reactions in him. He had seen so much already, the good and the bad, and thousands of different variations of those shades of gray in between. And yet, things like that still happened to him sometimes. In spite of all his experience of _existence_ there were moments where he still found himself overcome with astonishment… mostly when he was with her.

And right now was one of those moments. He felt like he was living a fairytale, with him in the leading male role, of all people. And with _her_...

Propped up on his right elbow, Damon laid in his huge four-poster bed, just gazing at beautiful girl – no, _woman_ – next to him in complete fascination.

He watched the way her chest rose under the thin white cotton of his sheets every time she took a breath; how the fingers of her left hand lazily played with a stray curl of her soft, dark brown hair...and how her eyelids fluttered lightly as warm rays of bright sunlight danced over her lovely face. Just laying there, daydreaming in his bed, Elena was by far the most stunning and beautiful thing Damon had ever laid his eyes on. She was a vision to behold.

His tender gaze caressed every inch of her bare skin that he could make out in pure amazement. He was captivated as the sun draw pictures of light and shadow all over her skin that would move from time to time, creating a whole new spectrum of sheer astonishing beauty. She was like a piece of art in his eyes, the most perfect artwork he had ever seen. Everything about her was like one of da Vinci's masterpieces; immaculately sculpted, wrapped in effeminateness and simply absorbing. Her collar bones, her slender arms, her long, delicate fingers...and most of all, over and over again, her face. Seeing the soft, content smile firmly placed on her lips made the corners of his mouth pull up into one of his own.

Leaning halfway over her, he carefully lifted his left arm to caress one of her rosy cheeks, drawing slow circles with his thumb. As soon as his skin made contact with hers, her eyelids started to flutter a little more and a lazy smile languorously formed itself on her lips. Elena took a long, deep breath – visibly relishing the feeling his soft touch provoked in her. And he enjoyed it just as much. Being able to touch her this way – and in so many other, even more intimate ways – was true bliss for him. He loved the feel of her skin, the reactions he could elicit from her body, and most of all the way how everything – no matter what he did – every touch, every kiss, every embrace and every gaze just felt _right_ with her. He wasn't used to feeling so... _in the right place_, but when he was with her, he just knew that there was no other place on earth, where he should, or _could_ be right now. He belonged with her..._that_ he was more than sure of.

And sill he couldn't believe how he – _he of all people_ – the bad boy, the villain of their story, the _self-serving __psychopath with no redeeming qualities_ as she had once called him...how he could end up with the good girl in the end.

He let his fingers slowly trail down along her jaw line, his eyes never leaving her beautiful face as he still contemplated that thought and how he could possibly be so lucky. How he could deserve her. She shivered as his fingertips danced faintly over her jugular vein, down her neck, just barely touching her skin in the process. She was so vulnerable, so _fragile_, and yet he could never quite help the feeling that deep inside, when it came down to it, she was the stronger one of them. Maybe not physically, or in the obvious ways, but in all the other ways that mattered. Morally, mentally..._emotionally_. He admired her strength, her unbreakable belief in the good things in this world. She wasn't naïve – at least not more than anybody else her age – but she was just brave enough to see past all the walls other people built around themselves, past all the actions they use to disguise their true feelings. Sometimes he felt like she had the power to just unravel everyone in her presence. And he felt utterly vulnerable in these moments...but somehow, at some point along the way, he came to the amazing conclusion that his vulnerability was safe with her. As safe as it could be.

As he started to move his fingers back and forth across her collarbone, it suddenly occurred to him that maybe it wasn't luck that brought him right here, after all. Maybe it was something more along the lines of... _fate_. Just the way it was supposed to be. The bad boy and the good girl.

He had to laugh slightly at that thought.

Elena opened her eyes, confused and curious what made him laugh at that moment, and looked up at him with a questioning gaze. He just laughed again shortly and shook his head, smiling down at her. Still not satisfied and waiting for a response she rose her eyebrow, smirking at him. She knew that he would tell her eventually…if not voluntarily than by force.

He sighed, also knowing that there was no way around telling her what was on his mind. "So, it's true, huh?" he murmured silently.

"What?" She frowned. He just laughed again, grinning down at her. He knew very well that patience was not always one of her virtues, especially not when it came to her wanting to know what he was thinking.

"What, Damon?" she asked again, and surely he could hear the slightly impatient emphasis in her voice. Not wanting to upset her, he gave in rather quickly _(like he always did)_.

"In the end," he started, "the bad boy _does_ always get the girl." His eyes were locked firmly with hers, staring into those beautiful depths of dark brown, a small grin on his face.

She had to laugh about that for a moment before she slowly started shaking her head. "No."

The continuous movement of his fingers on her skin stopped short and his grin disappeared as a small, confused pout appeared on his lips. He looked positively dumbfounded. "No?"

"No, Damon," she repeated in a whisper, her gaze turning soft as she lovingly gazed up at him.

Now it was his turn to frown. "Well..." he started, unsure of what exactly he was going to say. "I was just wondering... I mean," he stopped again, searching for the right words and hating the fact that he was stammering. _Stammering_. Oh, the things she did to him...

"Well?" she carefully pressed, really interested in what he was possibly going to say.

"_Well,_" he repeated, with more confidence this time. "My dear brother Stefan is without doubt the good guy in all of this. He had that role most of his undead life and he's always going to have it. He's just the _do-gooder_." He grimaced for a second, but she could still see the somewhat loving look in his eyes as he talked about his younger brother. "So … since Stefan is – as always – the good guy... and I am – for once – seemingly _not_ the bad guy… and I have _you_... what does that leave for me to be?"

Elena looked at him with a mixture of love and wonder. She was used to Damon doubting himself from time to time, but the somewhat _lost_ tone in his voice when he asked her that question surprised her and made her heart ache for him in a familiar way. It wasn't pity she was feeling... more like disbelief and amazement how he could still see himself as the bad guy. Didn't he know what he meant to her by now?

Deciding that she could probably never show or tell him enough exactly _what_ he was to her, she slowly wiped her own bewildered expression of her face and looked at him with what she hoped was all the love she felt for this man.

He still hadn't moved an inch, just staring down at her, waiting for the answer he really wanted to know, that he _needed_ to know. He stayed totally still as she slowly brought her right hand to his face, tenderly caressing his cheek for a few moments before she let it trail upwards along his temples. She brushed some stray wisps of hair from his forehead and continued to trail her hand along his scalp and through his soft, raven hair, until it came to a halt in his neck. Her eyes locked with his in an unbreakable gaze.

_What does that leave for me to be?_

His words rang through her mind again, as she looked into the light blue orbs of the man that she came to love more than anything in this world. She smiled at him.

"The _right _guy."

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**_Well … I hope you liked it :)_**

**_Thanks for reading! Please Comment and Review!_**

**_DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything related to The Vampire Diaries. Just that little piece of fluff :)_**


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